In the Meanwhile
by NoMoreJacksPlz
Summary: What happens between Lorelai and Christopher from the moment she shows up at his door in "Partings" to the final scene of the episode, from Christopher's POV. Not recommended for Chris-haters.


Christopher was tired.

He sighed as he unlocked the door to his apartment and let himself inside. The night had definitely been...interesting. He'd driven over to Emily and Richard's -- not the quickest drive, even though he was now living in the Hartford area -- expecting to have dinner with Rory and Lorelai, only to be ambushed with the most blatant set-up he'd ever experienced. He supposed he should have known that the elder Gilmores' invitation sounded too good to be true, but then, they knew that he would automatically say yes if they dangled the bait of Rory and Lorelai in front of him. He was predictable that way.

He slid out of his jacket, draped it over the arm of a chair, and greeted Miriam, who was sitting on the couch, reading.

"Thanks for sticking around to watch Gigi," he told her. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Haden," Miriam replied with a smile.

"Especially when you're on double time," he pointed out.

Miriam only continued to smile.

She collected her things, and he walked her to the door. "Thanks again," he said. "I know Gigi can be a handful sometimes. Actually, more like most of the time." He paused. "Although, come to think of it, 'always' is pretty accurate, too." He cringed apologetically.

Miriam shrugged into her coat. "She's not so bad, Mr. Haden. I heard bad things from other people when I applied for this job, but really, she's not bad. I've taken care of bad kids before. Gigi isn't one of them." She gave him a sympathetic look. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, okay?"

He nodded. "See you in the morning."

He closed the door behind her and noticed how still the apartment had suddenly become. After quickly peeking in on Gigi, he came back to the living room and flopped down on the couch. God, it was quiet. He stared at the ceiling, and as he did so, his thoughts drifted back to the earlier events of the evening.

It had been a long time since he'd been set up. Hell, it had been a long time since he'd been on any kind of a date. _Am I that pathetic that_ Emily and Richard _feel the need to get involved? _he wondered, feeling sorry for himself.

After Sherry had left, he'd tried to date, sort of. He'd gone out a couple of times with a cute girl he'd met at the coffee shop near his work, but that had quickly fizzled when he'd discovered that her brain and mouth weren't connected, and what brain there was wasn't too impressive. He'd had a flirtation with another sales rep from work, only to find out through the grapevine that she was secretly dating his boss. Chris had dropped her like a hot potato. And then there had been his co-worker's friend, who was pretty and intelligent, whom he'd liked more than anyone he'd met in a long time, but she'd been really into her career and had cooled on him when he told her he had a toddler at home. Since then, he'd pretty much put dating on the backburner, telling himself that he was too busy with work and trying to be a father to Gigi.

_I have a really boring ceiling,_ he thought as he continued to stare upward. _Maybe I should put some glow-in-the-dark stars up there. Or maybe just draw some random dots and try to make constellations out of them. It'd definitely make the staring more interesting. It could even be educational for Gigi._

Deep down, though, he knew the real reason he'd avoided dating, and it wasn't because he'd been burned by Sherry. Oh, it definitely had hurt when she'd left. _Shellshocked_ would have been a good description of his condition when he read her note. He and Sherry had had good times together, a lot of good times. They had produced a child together, had shared a home together. But he'd never loved her. At one time, early on, he'd thought he felt love, but when he'd seen the real thing and had it so close in his grasp, he'd known that he'd never loved her. Never _could_ love her.

It was Lorelai. It had always been Lorelai. From the time he'd discovered that girls were more awesome than gross, it had always been the girl with those sky-colored, mischievous blue eyes and that mouth that laughed so easily and that mane of dark hair and those amazing legs that stretched for miles. The girl with the sharp wit and untamed spirit. The girl he didn't need to waste time getting to know, because she already knew him completely.

He'd spent his twenties and early thirties trying to erase her face from his heart, not so much because he wanted to, but because he felt he had to. She'd been busy with Rory and had held him at arm's length while he floundered both personally and professionally. He'd seen the disapproval in her face, heard it in her voice, and so he'd figured that moving on from her was his best option. He winced as he thought of all the girls he'd used to try to fill the Lorelai-shaped hole in his life. Most of the time, he'd missed the mark by a long shot, although once or twice he'd come close. Even those relationships had been doomed from the start, though, just because it would always end up that he'd see Lorelai on a holiday and then barely be able to remember the other girl's name afterward.

Meeting Sherry had been almost a relief. Here was a girl who in most ways was the opposite of Lorelai, and yet he had still been able to think seriously about her. What was more, he'd become a better man when he'd been with her. He'd gotten a steady job, had moved in, paid bills, had planned a real future with her. For a while, he had thought Sherry was his salvation, the sign that he didn't need Lorelai anymore. But in the end, even Sherry hadn't been enough to supersede her.

And, just because fate was that cruel, the minute he'd been free, Lorelai hadn't been.

There was Luke.

Now Lorelai's fiancé.

The lucky bastard. _Does he even appreciate what he's getting?_ Christopher wondered, remembering Lorelai's drunken speech at Lane's wedding. _If he really understood how lucky he was, he would have raced to the altar with her._

_I would have._

Oh, well, if Luke made Lorelai happy, then that was all that really mattered. Lorelai deserved to be happy. He wanted her to be happy. He just wished he could be the one to make her happy, that was all.

And yet...

Somehow his hope refused to die. Given their history, it should have died years ago, but like the phoenix, it kept rising from the ashes. They'd been getting along so well lately, really well. When they talked, it was good, never awkward, and it had a tendency to run long if they weren't paying attention. At Lane's wedding, they'd genuinely had a great time, at least up until Lorelai's impromptu toast. It really seemed like things were back on track between them. Almost like old times, except now they had added discussions about paying for Rory's education and Rory's friends getting married and Rory's rich boyfriend to their repartee. It was almost like they were...

He didn't let himself finish the thought.

Maybe he should have been more receptive to Lynnie at the Gilmores'. She was attractive, intelligent, accomplished, good-natured...everything on paper that a man could ask for. As hamfistedly as Emily and Richard had handled the situation, he couldn't say they'd done a terrible job in their selection. Lynnie just wasn't Lorelai. He smiled as he thought of his conversation with Lorelai in the bathroom and her subsequent attempts to rescue him from Emily and Richard's scheming. No, there wasn't _anyone_ like Lorelai. There never could be. She was one in a million. A billion. Six billion, to be exact.

_She's my best friend,_ it suddenly occurred to him. Despite all their ups and downs, she was the one friend who had never dropped out of his life. She was the person who put him most at ease and made his world brighter, the person he most enjoyed spending time with. Well, there was Rory, too, of course, but his daughter was not his confidante. Not like her mother was.

_This is the way it should be,_ he thought, and he felt a tiny ache as the knowledge that Lorelai would soon be marrying someone else hit him all over again. _And on that happy note, _he concluded, _now would probably be a good time to pick your sorry self off the couch and go to bed_.

He stood and stretched, pausing to yawn, then began padding his way to his bedroom when he heard a soft knock on the door. He stopped and turned around. Who could be trying to see him at this time of night? Oh, God, what if something had happened to his mother?

His heart nearly stopped when he opened the door.

It was Lorelai.

"Hey," she said awkwardly.

She was wearing the same outfit she had on at dinner, but instead of the bubbly smile she'd had on her face then, she now looked weary. Deflated.

"You okay?" he asked, concerned. What would bring her over to his place looking like this? She'd never even been to his current apartment before.

She spoke as though it caused her actual pain. "I'm having a really bad night, and I just don't want to be alone, okay?"

"Yeah. Um, come on in." Confused, concerned, heart pounding, he stepped aside to let her pass.

She wandered into the room as though in a daze.

"Here, have a seat," he said quickly, motioning her to the couch.

Wordlessly, she nodded and sat down.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? Bourbon?" he asked, slightly alarmed to see her looking so broken. She'd never been like this around him, ever. A Lorelai with nothing to say? Impossible.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, that'd be great," she said in a distracted voice.

Bourbon it would be, then.

He trekked into the kitchen and pulled out two glasses. After pouring drinks he came back out and gave one of the glasses to her.

When she saw what was in the glass, a faint grin twitched her lips. "Ah," she said, looking into the glass. "You're a smart cookie."

"Just call me Mrs. Fields," he said, pleased to get even a small positive reaction out of her.

She half-smiled again and swirled the drink in her glass, watching the liquid slosh against the sides.

Several long minutes passed as they sat in silence on the couch. She continued to watch the bourbon swish around; he took a sip, felt his throat burn, and turned his attention back to her. It was like looking at a replica of the real Lorelai; it looked like her but lacked the spark that brought her to life. Finally, he set his glass down and gently prodded, "Earth to Lorelai."

"This is gonna burn, isn't it?" she said, referring to the bourbon.

"A little."

"Then what the hell," she said, and downed the drink in one gulp. Immediately she began to cough and sputter.

Christopher quickly moved beside her on the couch. "Are you okay?"

She made a face at him and coughed a few more times. "Yeah, I'll be fine," she rasped, pulling in a deep breath through her nose, then shaking herself out. "Good stuff you got here. I feel like I just gave my throat a rug burn."

He smiled. That was a little more like the Lor he knew.

She leaned back against the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. Christopher decided right then to put glow-in-the-dark stars on his to-do list.

Silence fell over the room again for several more minutes, and Christopher could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"Luke and I aren't getting married," Lorelai said abruptly.

"What?" The word just fell out of his mouth.

"We're not getting married," she repeated, sitting up to look at him directly.

He wasn't comprehending. "What do you mean, not getting married?"

"Okay, there's married, and the opposite of that is not married. In order to be married, you have to get married. We're not getting married. We decided that tonight."

"Really?" He tried to settle the thoughts crashing around in his brain. "But I thought…"

"Chris, he doesn't want to marry me!" she burst out, sounding almost angry. "I asked him to elope, and he just...he just stood there, making excuses. I was catching kitchen sinks." She took a breath and quieted. "He doesn't want to marry me."

Her words slowly began to sink in. "Wait...you asked him to elope? When? Tonight?" he asked, feeling dumb. He was aware that she had just told him what had happened, but somehow he had trouble believing it, even though he himself had had an ominous inkling after Lane's wedding.

She nodded.

"And he said no?"

"He said he had April to consider, and he didn't like ultimatums."

He exhaled in a low whistle. "Wow."

"We've been engaged for a year." She held her left hand out in front of her. "Were engaged for a year. I guess I can take this off," she said, pulling the diamond off her finger and flinging it onto the carpet. "Won't be needing this anymore. Wouldn't want people to get the wrong impression."

Christopher's heart went out to her; it wasn't that long ago that he had come home from a business trip expecting to find Sherry but instead had found just a note. Lorelai had been there for him when he needed her. Now it was his turn to do the same for her.

"A year is pretty long, isn't it?" she asked, her voice catching. "Don't you think a year is long enough? It's three hundred sixty-five days. That's hundreds of days. Hundreds. That's enough time, isn't it?"

He gave a sympathetic nod. "It is."

"I guess I just thought...I thought this was it, you know? I thought that this was it, that I was done looking, that I was gonna get it. I was gonna get my whole package, that I was finally going to have the husband and the kid and the dog and the house, although in my case it was actually kid first, then house, then dog, and then it was supposed to be a husband, but hey, the order doesn't matter so long as you get them all, right? It's like a real-life Happy Meal, you collect them all, and you're supposed to be happy, 'cause it's a Happy Meal." She sighed and wiped at her eyes. "It was a really nice dream for a while. Maybe that's all I'm good for. Dreams."

"Lor, that is not true."

"Says the guy who confessed he actually thought about trying out to be the new lead singer of INXS." She offered a wan smile.

"But then I came to my senses and remembered that no one can take the place of Michael Hutchence. Plus, there's the whole replacing a guy who committed suicide thing, which is pretty morbid when you think about it. And also the fact that I have no singing ability whatsoever. But I mean it. You will get all of those things. You will get your dream. If there is anyone I know who gets their dreams and completely deserves it, it's you," he said, putting his arm around her and giving her a comforting squeeze. He patted her affectionately on the arm and continued, "You're amazing, Lor. You always have been, and you always will be. You don't wait for life to happen to you, because you go out and make it happen for yourself. That's incredible. And I know that whoever you end up with will feel the same way, because he won't be stupid enough not to recognize Wonder Woman when he sees her. Just look at you. You're gorgeous, you're smart, you're funny, you're a great mom, you're a great friend. You still talk to _me_. If that won't get you the Congressional Medal of Honor, then the only thing left to do is actually enlist," he said with a small chuckle.

He finally saw a real smile cross her face. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Chris," she said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "For a civilian you're not half bad."

"Just being honest," he replied.

"Well, Lynnie really missed out," she said, only a hint of teasing in her tired voice as she adjusted her position to face him, and as she did, her knees brushed against his.

"Only on a bunch of misery," he supplied for her. It registered that her hand was still on his, and he slipped his fingers between hers.

"I thought she was _perfect_."

"So you're saying on a scale from one to Bo Derek, she's Bo Derek."

"Well, there's only one Bo Derek, but Lynnie comes pretty damn close."

"I guess I really missed the boat, huh. Damn my plebian taste." He squeezed her hand affectionately. "Lor, you _will_ get your whole package. It's not going to be just a dream."

She nodded calmly. Then, to his surprise, her face began to crumble, and tears began to roll down her cheeks and her shoulders began to shake.

"I just wish I knew what I did," she finally choked out. "Why doesn't he want to marry me? What's so bad about being married to me? I thought he wanted to marry me. He said he was all in. He made repairs to the house for us. He cares about Rory. I gave him his space. When he found out about April, I gave him his space. He asked for space, and I gave it to him. I tried to do what he wanted, I mean, really, really tried. It was killing me how hard I tried. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough for him. And now he's got his daughter and he's trying with her and he's not trying with me anymore, and I don't know what to do about it because I don't think I know him anymore, at least not the real him, the real Luke." She took a long, shaky breath. "Or maybe I never knew the real Luke. Maybe, when he realized what he was really going to get, he couldn't go through with it. Maybe it's the real me."

He looked at her sternly. "It is nothing you did, Lor. It is not you."

She shook her head. "I should have spoken up sooner. But I waited, and I pushed too hard, and I lost him. I lost him. I knew this would happen, and I did it anyway. Why did I do it? Why did I wait so long? Why was I so scared? If it's really love, I shouldn't be scared, right? I shouldn't have to worry, right?"

He gave her a reassuring look. "You did what you thought was right."

"And look where that got me."

He reached behind himself, picked up the box of tissues that was sitting on the end table, and offered it to her. She took the box gratefully and spent a few minutes loudly blowing her nose.

"I really wanted to be married," she said wistfully after she had regained some composure.

"I know," he said.

"What if I run out of time?" she asked, a new fear crossing her face. "I don't want to end up looking like Cher because I'm still searching for the guy and refuse to accept gravity's effects on my face until I've locked him down."

"Believe me, between your brain and those gams, your face has nothing to worry about. Plus, these days you don't have to stretch out your face like a tarp. You can just get your face injected with toxins that will make it impossible for you to do anything but blink."

She chuckled and hiccupped, then wiped her eyes some more. "Did anyone ever tell you you're a good listener?" she asked. "You listen very well."

Something in the tone of her voice made his stomach knot and his heart skip faster. "I wouldn't be much of a friend if I didn't," he said, trying to sound nonchalant. "And also, you showed up at my door, and while I contemplated slamming the door in your face and twirling the end of my mustache of evil, I think I've matured to the point of offering fake hospitality convincingly."

"I know you don't like him."

"Who, Jay Leno?"

"Luke."

He hesitated. "Lor, I barely know the guy."

"But you still don't like him. Admit it, part of you is happy."

He tried not to look at her in the eye, because he knew that if he did, she'd see that she was right. He wanted her not to be, but this was Lorelai, and he wasn't about to cry over Luke's poor judgment. "The only person I want to be happy right now is you," he told her, which was the truth, and she seemed to accept that explanation.

She leaned back on the couch and sighed. "God, I'm exhausted. I feel like I just did the Ironman and followed it up with the New York City marathon followed by a friendly game of dodgeball. And I'm not even including dinner with my parents in that list."

Chris chuckled, and an idea came to him as he glanced at his watch. "Hey, it's way past midnight. Why don't you just spend the night here?" Lorelai raised her eyebrows slightly but didn't look put off. "Save you a trip home alone in the dark?" Chris offered. "I'll sleep on the couch, and you can stay in my room."

Lorelai considered the offer. "I won't be imposing?"

"Actually, you already are, so I figured, what's a little more?"

Lorelai smirked. "I bet you'll go to work tomorrow and tell everybody you had a girl in your bed."

"Definitely. It'll totally boost my stock at the water cooler." Christopher stood up and held out his hand. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

She held on to his hand as he led her back to his bedroom.

"Ah, the grand tour," Lorelai quipped as they walked down the hall.

"Yeah, that's the linen closet to your left, built in 1988, and the bathroom on the right, freshly painted last month."

"Someone's been watching Home and Garden."

"Well, when the uplifting evening news isn't enough, I go for the stuff that really matters."

He pushed open the door to his bedroom. "Well, here you go. I'm just gonna get you some fresh sheets, and you should be good to go."

He walked back to the linen closet and pulled out a set of sheets for Lorelai and a blanket for himself. When he returned, Lorelai was looking at the pictures of Gigi that were hanging on his walls. "You're going to be in trouble when she gets to be a teenager," Lorelai remarked. "She's too pretty already."

"Don't scare me. I'm already counting the days before I have to start using Grecian Formula and stop mocking my coworkers who do, which is at least seventy-five percent of them."

Lorelai excused herself to go to the bathroom, and Christopher changed the sheets. He was just finishing tucking in the corners when she returned. Her face was freshly washed, and she looked much more calm and composed, much more like the Lorelai he knew than the one who had shown up at his door earlier that night.

"Well, you're all set," he told her.

"Thanks for everything," she said, sounding genuinely grateful.

"It's no problem. Anything you need, just ask."

She looked at him affectionately and approached him for a hug. He pulled her close for a squeeze, and her arms circled around his neck. She laid her cheek against his chest, and he ran his hands up and down her back a few times. "You'll feel better in the morning," he told her.

She nodded, and he continued rubbing her back. They stood like that for what felt like several minutes, swaying lightly. Christopher smoothed his hand over her hair and looked down at her head. "You okay?" he asked more as a reassurance than a question.

"Mm-hmm," Lorelai murmured, not moving.

Christopher's hands continued to move over her back, then slid gently up her arms and back down. It felt so good to hold her, to be there for her in this way, to realize that she trusted him enough. She'd really gone through a lot tonight. Being alone after what had happened...that was unthinkable. "Think you're ready for bed?"

"Just a little longer."

"Okay." Chris kissed the top of her head and continued holding her and occasionally stroking her hair.

At last, Lorelai stirred and pulled away slightly with a sigh. She looked into Christopher's eyes for a moment. "I'm glad I have you," she said simply.

Chris smiled, ignoring the quiver her words set off in his stomach. "I'll always be here for you, Lor. You know that."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and started to loosen his embrace when she tightened her arms around his neck and, to his great surprise, kissed him softly on the lips.

His mouth tingled when she pulled away. He gave her a quizzical look, not sure how to process what had just happened. He knew what it had felt like, but with Lorelai he could never be sure.

She slid her hands to his chest and rubbed there lightly. "You feel good," she said quietly, looking at his chest before looking back into his eyes. "Really good."

His heart skittered at a wild pace. "Well, I've been trying to get to the gym more…" he mumbled, trailing off awkwardly. He sensed that Lorelai wasn't referring strictly to his ability to be her friend, but somehow any words he tried to use just stalled in his throat.

"That's good," she said, remaining a little too close.

"I think so," he managed to say.

"Working out, that's important."

"It is. Very."

He looked into her eyes and saw that she was looking back at him. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and this time his lips met hers halfway. Their lips locked softly but warmly, sending a new current of electricity through Chris.

He heard her exhale as she pulled away. He felt paralyzed, waiting for a clear sign for …he wasn't sure what. He tried to decide if he was in a dream or not, because kissing Lorelai was something that for years he'd only been able to dream about. "Lorelai," he said thickly -- her lips had made it hard for him to think, much less speak -- "what…what is this?"

His knees nearly buckled when she put her palm on his cheek and pressed a light kiss to the corner of his chin. "Feeling good," she murmured. She laid a kiss on his jawline, then another.

It was all Chris could do not to respond out of instinct as she brushed kisses along his jawline. Her intention was abundantly clear, and he was slowly starting to believe it. Still, a frown flickered over his face. He knew what his body wanted, but was it going to give him what his heart wanted?

With great effort, he stepped back. He needed to know…he needed to hear it from her.

He wasn't prepared for the hurt look on her face. "You don't…?" she asked in a small voice.

"No, I do," he confessed haltingly, "it's just…" He looked at her helplessly.

Recognition clicked in her eyes as she moved close to him. "I want this, Chris," she said, trailing her palm down his chest until her hand came to rest on his belt buckle. "I need you with me."

He glanced down at her hand on his belt, then up at her face. There was midnight in her clear blue eyes, unmistakable desire in her parted lips. Her body pressed against him, and he knew she could tell he was willing. He thought of her tears. He thought of her vibrant grin at dinner. He thought of her coming to him instead of anyone else. He thought of the connection he knew they still shared. He thought of the heat coursing through his body and how deeply she was still embedded in his heart. There was no way he could say no to her. With his heart pounding in his ears, he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

It took no more than a second for her tongue to find his. Their mouths crushed together as they kissed hungrily. The store of pent-up longing that Christopher had been harboring burst open, spilling forth the passions he'd been unable to show during the long months they'd been apart. He kissed her deeply, reveling in the taste of her and the way she felt in his arms, as though she'd been made to fit there. Her tongue curled around his, and he clutched her tightly. His body hadn't forgotten what she liked, and it seemed hers hadn't forgotten him, either.

He slid his hands underneath her cardigan and helped her shrug out of it. With a happy sound, she tossed it aside and reached for the buttons of his shirt as their mouths remained glued together. When Lorelai finished unbuttoning, Christopher quickly shook off his shirt and pushed the straps of Lorelai's dress off her shoulders. He kissed the skin there, wetting it with his tongue as Lorelai ran her hands all over his upper body, leaving trails of tingling skin with her fingertips. He grunted his pleasure and moved his lips to her neck while his hand found the zipper of her dress and slid it down. The dress fell in a puddle around Lorelai's feet, and she kicked it away. Chris heard her moan as he caressed her bare stomach, and he smiled against her skin.

Kissing her again on the lips, he reached around and unhooked her bra, tossing it among their other discarded clothes while Lorelai unbuckled his belt. Chris put his hands on her breasts, and she sighed deeply, pushing them further into his hands, letting him play. He moved his hands to the small of her back and her bottom, running his hands over her curves, and she began to kiss his chest as she worked the button and zipper of his pants. Chris groaned as her mouth moved wetly over his skin. God, everything she did felt so good…so good. Lorelai pushed down his pants, and they shared a laugh as he struggled to shake them off his ankles.

Christopher wrapped his arms around Lorelai and kissed her wetly as they connected skin to skin. He guided her over to the bed, pulled back the covers, and laid her down on it. After removing his boxers, he reached for the waistband of her panties. Hooking his fingers into the thin sides, he tugged them down with her help.

He paused for a moment to look at her, white in the low glow of the street lights outside, and marvel at her form. It made his mouth go dry and his heart race, even after all these years…especially after all these years. He climbed onto the bed and covered her body with his, glorying in their nakedness, loving how she was soft and curved in all the right places. He kissed her face, her neck, her collarbone, her breasts and stomach, while his hands roamed down her sides, over the outside of her thighs, to her ankles. He brought his hand up the back of her leg, feeling the shapeliness of her calf, before moving to the inside of her thigh and rubbing softly back and forth. Lorelai began to squirm as he continued his caresses. "Chris," she managed to rasp, the need in her voice evident, "I…" She looked at him pleadingly.

He smiled and kissed her, moving his fingers between her legs as he did. She gasped into his kiss and arched into him. He touched her steadily, circling and tracing, feeling her readiness for him, pushing her excitement higher. His own desire was blazing like a flare at night, but hers was his focus. He slid a finger inside her, and she arched again. "That good?" he asked, and he was answered with a groan. He added another finger and continued to build her up, taking pleasure in her pleasure. She moaned low in her throat, her breathing hitched as it became needy panting. When she reached a certain pitch, he stopped. Lorelai immediately made a disappointed cry. "Chris…" she protested.

He kissed her and moved between her thighs, positioning himself above her. Before he could move, she reached out for him and began to stroke hard. He let out a garbled sound, and she admonished him breathlessly, "That's for quitting on me."

He indulged in the unbelievable sensation for a few moments, unable to resist, then collected himself and put his hand on hers. "Please, Lor," he said, looking into her eyes. He nudged her legs farther apart and with determined control, he slowly pushed inside her. For a few seconds, they lay still, the only sound in the room their breathing.

"You good?" he asked gently.

She nodded, her eyes looking full, and shifted beneath him to urge him on.

His heart swelled, and he kissed her passionately. He began to move, fighting the sensations that would undo him too quickly. She felt amazing, absolutely incredible, and he silently vowed to make her feel like the most beautiful woman on earth. He watched her face as he set a solid pace, looking for signs that he was pleasing her, treasuring every catch in her breathing, every tiny sound that escaped her throat. He took his time with her, drawing out the moments, maximizing their closeness. They continued to kiss and touch as their entwined bodies rose and fell as one.

When it was no longer enough, Lorelai lifted her legs, wrapping one leg around his waist and the other around his hips. "More," she implored.

The change in position shot new heat through Christopher's veins. He plunged faster and deeper, and Lorelai let out a sharp cry. "Oh, God," she moaned, breathing hard. Her fingertips dug into his shoulder blades as she lifted her hips urgently off the bed, trying to stay with Chris at his new pace. "Like that…yes…God, yes." Their bodies surged together like a storm at sea, crashing again and again as they found the perfect angle. The sounds they made grew louder with their passion, and in a distant, hazy part of his mind, Christopher hoped that Gigi was sleeping extra soundly. Lorelai's legs tightened around him, and between their ragged breaths, he curled his hand around her bottom to pull her even closer.

Lorelai twisted beneath him, her lips parted as she sought completion. "Don't stop," she panted wildly, "don't you dare," and Christopher shook his head, promising her he wouldn't. He could tell it wouldn't be long before her release. Their damp bodies slid furiously against each other, the fevered noise of their exertion filling the room. Christopher looked into Lorelai's heavy-lidded eyes and knew she was almost there. He hooked his arm under her leg and brought her knee to her chest. Her eyes flew open, and he drove hard once, then twice, then three times, and with a guttural shriek, she came apart in his arms. Several seconds later, he followed her with a shout of his own. Her satiated cries rang in his ears like music as he collapsed, spent but euphoric.

He lay on top of her as violent waves of pleasure washed over them, reverberating through every inch of their bodies. Gradually their frantic moans subsided and normal feeling returned. In the afterglow Lorelai's arms remained wrapped around him, her fingers lazily tracing arcs on his back, the sole of one foot lightly caressing his calf. Chris wanted to remain like this forever, in a world where only he and Lorelai existed, where their bodies were connected as one. What just happened between them had felt so good, so right, so perfect. At that moment he was convinced that nothing could be more perfect; in his mind, they had just completed the most beautiful act on earth. He was sure she felt it, too. The way she'd moved, sounded, gave…there was no question. He thought about all the near misses they'd had over the years. They'd spent so long trying to meet at the same place; finally they'd achieved it.

He looked into her peaceful face and gently pushed a wayward lock of hair off her forehead. Then he dipped his head and kissed her warmly. "You're amazing," he told her, punctuating his words with a sweet peck, his heart full of her. "So amazing…so beautiful." He kissed her again, his lips lingering on hers.

She smiled back at him, her eyes still glazed, and he regretfully withdrew from her and lay at her side. He took her hand in both of his and kissed it, then watched her as her eyelids grew heavy and eventually closed. When her breathing settled into a sleeper's drone, he scooted closer to her, placed a soft kiss on her shoulder, and closed his own eyes, drifting off into the most blissful sleep he'd experienced in years.

Christopher awoke early, feeling ready to conquer the world. For a split second when his eyes opened, he wasn't sure why, but then he looked over and saw the wavy mass of Lorelai's dark hair on the pillow next to him. He grinned giddily to himself, remembering their night together. It hadn't been a dream…and it had been so much better than any of his dreams.

He quietly got out of bed and pulled on his robe. The floor was dotted with shed clothing: his shirt crumpled here, her dress pooled there; shoes, pants, and undergarments scattered in a haphazard trail. It was a scene he could easily get used to.

He pushed open Gigi's door and saw that his daughter's bed was already empty. Shaking his head half-amused, half-resigned, he walked out to the family room and found her standing on the couch in her pajamas, pressing every button she could on the remote to try to turn on the television. Christopher silently congratulated himself for his foresight in child-locking the remote.

"Morning, hon," he said, picking her off the couch and setting her back down on her bottom. He bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Daddy, _Tom and Jerry_!" Gigi said, waving the remote at him, trying to get him to see how important it was that she watch her favorite show.

"No, you have to go to school today," Chris said. "Let's get you some breakfast. Miriam will be here soon to take you."

"I want _Tom and Jerry_!" Gigi protested.

"No, you can watch _Tom and Jerry_ when you get home from school," Christopher said firmly, taking the remote away.

Gigi glared at him with all the vitriol her four-year-old self could muster. At one time Chris would have caved to her wishes, but thanks to Lorelai, he'd developed a backbone. His thoughts immediately shot back to the bedroom, and his heart squeezed warmly. "It's time for breakfast," he told Gigi, and the tone in his voice said that it would be in her best interest to agree.

Gigi angrily crossed her arms over her chest, but within a few seconds, she was following Chris into the kitchen, suddenly excited by the prospect of mixing blueberries in with her Cheerios.

By the time Miriam arrived, Chris had managed to get Gigi into her school clothes and was trying to keep her still enough to brush her hair, which had the amazing ability to tangle even when Gigi didn't seem to be doing much of anything.

"Good morning, Mr. Haden," Miriam said, smiling at the scene.

"Hey, Miriam, she's almost ready to go. Gigi, stay still. Daddy can't brush when you're wiggling around so much."

Gigi turned to look at Miriam, and Chris used the opportunity to twist the elastic around her hair to make a serviceable ponytail. He wouldn't be working in a hair salon any time soon, but he was proud that he was probably the only dad that Gigi and her friends knew who could style girls' hair and not make the end result look like a scarecrow.

The minute the elastic snapped into place, Gigi ran back to the living room and asked Miriam to turn on _Tom and Jerry_. Christopher walked to the closet and pulled out Gigi's favorite lavender coat. "Gigi, come get your coat," he called.

Gigi took one look at the proffered coat and shook her head. "Not that coat, the pink one!"

Chris sighed. "Miriam, where's the pink coat?"

"She doesn't have a pink coat."

He turned back to the closet to take another look, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gigi dart down the hallway toward his bedroom.

_Lorelai._

"Gigi, come back here!" He took off after her, but his daughter had already thrown the door open and walked inside. A pit immediately formed in his stomach when he saw Lorelai's naked back completely exposed to Gigi's very curious eyes. Since Sherry's departure, Christopher had never had anyone spend the night, and certainly wouldn't have if Gigi were going to be there. But there was always an exception for Lorelai…and last night had been no ordinary night.

"Who's that?" Gigi asked loudly.

"That's your Aunt Lorelai," Chris said, quickly coming up behind her.

"Is she sick?" Gigi wanted to know.

"No. Miriam…" Chris picked up Gigi and handed her off to Miriam, who had followed them down the hall.

"Sorry, Mr. Haden," Miriam said contritely.

"I don't like to wear my nightgown to bed when I'm sick, either," Gigi proclaimed, eyes still fixated on the unexpected guest in her father's bed.

Chris decided that now would be a good time for the ground to open up and swallow him. He knew what the scene looked like, and it was the last thing he wanted his young nanny to see. He hoped she wasn't big on gossip. "I'll explain later," he offered lamely. "Have fun at school," he said to Gigi, who waved to him as Miriam carried her off. "Bye, hon."

He watched the two leave, then retreated back into the bedroom, relieved to have that situation over with.

Once again, the place was quiet. Lorelai had somehow remained asleep despite the hubbub, for which he was very grateful. _Not bad, Haden,_ a smirking little voice inside nudged. Chris couldn't help but smile as he removed his robe and slid back into bed with Lorelai, cozying up to the bare and beautiful back that had so transfixed Gigi. He gently put his arm around Lorelai and breathed in the scent of her hair. It was heavenly just to be like this. Close. Together. As they should be.

When Lorelai woke up, he would try to find a clever way to tell her about Gigi. Probably Lorelai would concoct an elaborate story that Gigi would swallow hook, line, and sinker. Lorelai was good with kids that way.

He closed his eyes and started to doze off as happy visions of endless possibilities played in his mind, all of them featuring a vibrant Lorelai basking in his love.


End file.
